


Darkness, darkness

by GreenPhoenix



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Creepy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7010209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenPhoenix/pseuds/GreenPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has always had a type.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness, darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/gifts).



When Will was a child his mother would read aloud to him, stories of dark and dangerous things. Perhaps she meant to prepare him somehow for what he must face as an adult.  
He took it all in, and wondered if the world was really so strange and wondrous.  
He liked the stories of monsters best, vampires, werewolves and wendigos.  
They were so lonely, and their appetites scared people.  
Will felt lonely too, not like the other children he knew.  
They teased him, and he retreated into a shell, building strong defenses to avoid being hurt.  
He could try, but he would fail.

*  
His favorite tale was that of Dracula. The image of the sophisticated, lonely man who was also a bloodsucking monster intrigued him on a very deep level.  
Dracula had a big castle and three beautiful vampire women at his command.  
Will understood how terribly lonely he must be, even with all that at his feet.  
The world always shunned what it did not understand.  
How glad he must have been to have found a friend like Jonathan.  
“This man belongs to me,” said Dracula as his brides tried to seduce Jonathan, and a thrill went through Will as he heard that.  
It must be wonderful to belong entirely to someone, to have him to call his own.  
His mother would not agree that that was the message Will was meant to glean from the story.  
She was gone from his life before she could correct that assumption.  
His father never read to him, and by then he could still hear her voice softly speak of terrors and wonders in his mind.

*  
As an adult he felt like an outcast among his fellow cops, who spoke of sports and girls, and other common topics. Will had girlfriends, but they always left before anything got too serious.  
All he had were his dogs, and they were fine companions, giving him what humans rarely did.  
He was considered strange later by his students at Quantico, the teacher who avoided eye contact at all costs, and who graded them harshly.  
He finally found a friend then, thanks to Jack Crawford.  
His very own monster in a nice suit and with even better manners.  
Hannibal.  
He with the high cheekbones and the dangerously addictive words of love and destiny.  
The man was exotic and strange, and yet Will knew him, recognized him on a deep level, like he was a long lost relative.  
Hannibal nourished him with food and delightful company, and he felt worthy of that somehow, because Hannibal wanted him to feel like that.  
Hannibal become his best friend and later his lover.  
Even as Will started to fathom just how monstrous he was, he let the man into his bed and his life.  
Just like Jonathan Harker must have done.  
Hannibal came home with him after they both survived Tobias Budge’s evil designs.  
“Would you like to belong to me entirely?,” Hannibal asked, and a thrill of dark delight stirred in Will.  
“Yes,” he said, knowing it to be true. “Suck my blood,” he entreated with a needy tone.  
“Only your blood?” asked his lover, smiling with all his sharp teeth visible.  
“There are other liquids I will spill for you,” said Will.  
“I will have you. Has anyone else fucked you?”  
“No,” said Will. “I’m all yours.”  
Hannibal kissed him, drawing blood in the process.  
“Mark me,” said Will. "I want to bear your imprint on my flesh."  
Hannibal did, kissing Will’s neck and then biting it.  
The imprint of his teeth would linger for days, and the bruising looked beautiful.  
Hannibal carefully prepared Will with fingers and lube, stretching his virgin entrance till it started to open for him.  
Hannibal’s cock breached Will’s opening, and he cried out with delight and pain.  
“You are all I desire,” said Will.  
“So it is,” said Hannibal and his thrusts shook Will to the core.  
“I will walk every step with you, do whatever you want,” said Will.  
His promise was true, and he smiled for the first time in a long, long time.

*  
Will took in the image of Hannibal in his rumpled bed, lips wet with his blood, hair soaked with sweat, his come clinging to the sleek skin in pearly droplets.  
Will treasured his monstrous lover’s body with hungry hands.  
He pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s high cheekbones, and kissed his lips, tasting his own blood on those lips. It was a sacrament, and he was truly blessed, as he had once only been cursed with his strange gift of empathy.  
“I’m yours,” he repeated, a vow to his only god.  
“I know,” said Hannibal, accepting his praise graciously as one accustomed to adoration does. For Will such praise was never easily accepted, but he would have time to get used to it.  
Will licked at Hannibal’s cock, his tongue mouthing praises and caressing the staff.  
Will took all of it, as Hannibal guided his movements with a firm hand in his curls; he choked on that instrument of pleasure. He delivered his offering while his master caressed him with eager hands.  
He slid from Hannibal’s mouth at his command, and placed himself on his back.  
“My darling boy,” said Hannibal, voice raspy with need, moving inside his disciple with one smooth thrust.  
Will was his as Jonathan has been Dracula’s.  
Hannibal thrust deeply, and took full possession of his truest love.  
Will felt transformed from the act, remade into something worth having and keeping safe. He was Hannibal’s creature now, and the change felt good to him.  
Will came with Hannibal’s cock inside him, with Hannibal’s words making a space in his troubled mind, driving out all others, all the other monsters fleeing.  
Only Hannibal’s design remained, and it was a thing of poetry and savage majesty.  
It erased his memories of years spent alone, days and nights without a kind word.  
Hannibal’s eyes held a quiet darkness that soothed him, and it made him feel good.  
Will was no longer alone, and that was everything to him. He knew they would be happy.


End file.
